


For the Man Who Has Everything

by Regency



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crack, Barbie AU, Harry isn't even a Mary Sue. Harry is straight-up Barbie, M/M, Romance, don't take this seriously, this is not a serious piece of fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:56:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5403872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/pseuds/Regency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crack AU. Harry Hart is the exact same man, except Harry Hart has had 150 careers, 40 pets, innumerable classic cars, and countless lovers in his 55 years on Earth.  If Harry Hart were <a href="http://www.barbiemedia.com/about-barbie/careers.html">Barbie</a>, this would be his story. If Eggsy Unwin loved him anyway, this would be his, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Man Who Has Everything

**Author's Note:**

> It’s crack. It’s just crack. Have the actual crackiest AU. Okay, not the crackiest. Slightly less cracky than the pasta!AU. (I blame @blackmakethme and @oggalahad on Tumblr for instigating this. Their idea, I just ran with it.) FYI, this story is gif-heavy because that's how it was on Tumblr. I've replaced most of the gifs with links to improve the reading experience here, save for those at the end, because I don't really think the story works without them. All gifs are furnished with links to their sources. Do not save them or repost on Tumblr, please go to the source to reblog. To read the fic in its original form, go [here](http://sententiousandbellicose.tumblr.com/post/134884625975/for-the-man-who-has-everything).
> 
>  
> 
>    
> [source](http://tmblr.co/ZbNH1q13t97uc)

It was hard enough dating an older man, but dating a rich, handsome, older man who had everything, had done everything and gone everywhere was close to impossible.

Eggsy wanted to get Harry the perfect gift for his birthday. Something romantic and memorable to convince Harry he hadn’t made a mistake taking a chance on a chav with plenty of potential and no prospects.  Harry was his and Eggsy never meant to give him up.  

He’d spent months picking a gift, but he was feeling outdone now that the big day had arrived. 

Harry had flown Eggsy and some friends of theirs to Malibu to celebrate his fifty-fifth. He’d actually flown them. Personally. He’d piloted his private jet to carry them from London to Malibu on a whim, because of course he did. He'd said he was in the mood for a sunny birthday celebration, and that was that. Now they were all guests at what he’d laughingly called his oceanside ‘[Dream House](http://a-movie-dream.tumblr.com/post/84945829075/the-great-gatsby)’. What a dream it was. 

Four levels, not including a subterranean garage and bunker. Turrets left and right. Bay windows with magnificent views of the ocean.  A working fountain out front and an Olympic swimming pool in back recessed from Harry's beach acess. There was greenery everywhere. There were gazebos for lunching and hammocks for napping. A trampoline for bouncing. An indoor boxing ring for sparring. Eggsy hadn't ever seen a place like this outside the movies. 

Eggsy was never leaving. Roxy would have to drag him kicking and shouting back across the Atlantic.

Harry had even taken the liberty of inviting Eggsy’s mum and baby sister along for the festivities, taking special care to make sure Daisy wasn’t bored or lonely.

Harry and Michelle had made an effort to get along once Dean was finally out of their lives, both of them agreeing that there’d been enough shouting by now; it was time for peace. Though not yet close, they were united in their efforts to see Eggsy and Daisy happy from then on. Eggsy was just glad she’d finally stopped telling him he could do better.

* * *

 

Harry was[ jamming out](http://subinnnnn.tumblr.com/post/116334996065) to The Clash’s London Calling with his old uni mates by the grill. There wasn’t a lick of rhythm between them, but Harry hadn’t stopped grinning since they gate crashed. 

Eggsy took discreet pics of their flailing on his phone for later blackmail opportunities while trying and failing not to gape at the who’s who milling about his boyfriend’s pool deck and on the ground below on his private stretch of beach.

 _Was that Idris Elba climbing out of the drink?_   Eggsy bit back an anguished moan and forced himself not to chase after the man to ask for his autograph. He’d brought his kids along at Harry’s request so that Daisy would have playmates and Eggsy didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship, much as he wanted to get his fanboy on.   _The things I do for you, Daisy girl._  

Roxy came back from catching some magnificent waves just in time for someone else tall, gorgeous, and unmistakable to pass Eggsy by.

“Roxy. Rox, was that? That couldna been ‘im.”

Roxy gulped and wrung out her hair with the hand she wasn’t using to hold her longboard. “I think I need a drink.”  Eggsy wasn’t about to point out her her voice cracked at the sight of a certain pair of massive pecs stretching a light grey [t-shirt to its limits](http://itsroxanam.tumblr.com/post/48280511593/grr-3). He wasn’t much better. 

Roxy retreated to get her much-needed refreshment as Harry broke from his friends to ask what Eggsy wanted to eat, but Eggsy wasn’t nearly hungry. He clutched Harry’s arm. 

“Was that The Rock? Tell me that wasn’t the Rock. Why would the Rock be at your party? You don’ even like wrestling.”

“I do.” Harry shrugged a mite guiltily at Eggsy’s look of surprise. “I admit was an avid watcher during his heyday at the WWE and some of the WWF. I even did a stint in training with the organization, but I ultimately found I was unable to commit the time and energy to the cause that success would have required and opted to bow out.”

“You were a professional wrestler?” Eggsy didn’t know why he bothered with surprise anymore.

“Only in-training, darling. There are miles between trainee and professional.”

“Right, you’re right. Introduce me?” he asked plaintively, fairly dancing on the spot. One thing Harry couldn’t do when he could do just about everything else wasn’t about to put a dent in Eggsy’s love of him.  “Seriously, mate. I love ‘im so much!” At Harry’s amused smirk, Eggsy settled down. “I mean, Daisy does. She’s a fan o’ his movies.”

“Big Scorpion King fan, is she?”

Eggsy sniffed. “She liked The Game Plan.”

“Nice save,” Harry granted.  “Come along, then. It’s about time Dwayne met the boy I can’t stop talking about.” He grabbed Eggsy by the hand and led him on a weaving path through the crowd.

Eggsy mentally checked off A-listers guzzling champers left and right. Nicole Kidman. Lenny Kravitz. Sir Ian McKellen playing fucking pool polo with Sir Patrick Stewart. Jennifer Lawrence. Viola Davis. Melissa McCarthy. Idris Elba glistening like a god in the fucking sun  _again. What the fuck?_  Clooney and the Missus. Brangelina and their brood playing Mother May I in the sand. This was Harry’s life when he wasn’t rubbing elbows with politicians or saving animals or saving rain forests. Harry knew everybody and he still somehow wanted to know Eggsy, too.

Eggsy was more convinced than ever that the ring in his pocket was going to go to good use tonight. What better gift could Eggsy give the man who had everything than his heart?

* * *

 

When the day party turned to a night gathering and the second wave of celebs came with their gifts and well wishes, Harry and Eggsy slipped away to the depths of the dream house to be alone. Eggsy had visited a few of Harry’s estates in Europe and two of his villas in the Caribbean and the Mediterranean, but this was his first visit to one of Harry’s stateside properties.

Harry walked him through the standards bits, the bathrooms (massive), the bedrooms and their four poster beds (enormous and tempting, respectively), the kitchens (multiple and fully stocked for a full house), and finally, [the automated underground garage](http://wewantbalance.tumblr.com/post/74734805338/pop-the-hood). Harry had a weakness for beautifully crafted things. Gadgets, yachts, architecture, and cars.  (If you asked him, he’d say lovers and look at Eggsy meaningfully.)

Eggsy had free run of the fastest of the fleet of cars back in London and these were just as stunning to behold: Bentleys, Jaguars, Spyders, Aston Martins, Lambourghinis, and Ferraris in eye-popping colors in a high-gloss finish.  Harry had more than he could drive on a regular basis, so he kept them up in style. Climate-controlled storage, regular cleaning and maintenance. Eggsy figured the only way he’d be happy if he couldn’t marry Harry would be if he could be his chief mechanic.

Harry caught Eggsy around his waist as he wandered to pepper kisses along his neck.  “Should I leave you alone with them, darling, or might I have to fear incriminating stains on my upholstery if I do?”

“The only incriminatin’ stains I plan to leave is on these nice trousers you got on.”

“Promises, promises.  What’s a birthday boy got to do to earn a kiss around here?”

That got Harry snogged within an inch of breathing on the front end of his sleek [Porche 918 Spyder](http://happinessbythekilowatts.tumblr.com/post/99151568348/the-most-perfectly-looped-gif-ive-ever-made), all filthy and grinding as Eggsy tried to keep them from sliding down to the floor. 

Eggsy had Harry’s top three button loose before Harry could break away, lips bruised and panting.  “There’s more.”

Eggsy had to peel himself away from Harry’s neck, which has been calling his fucking name since noon.  “Yeah? All right, show me what you got.”

Harry guided him through the winding concrete hallways toward the large freight elevator used to transport the cars from the surface.  He squeezed Harry’s hands.

“How deep’s this thing go?”

Harry smirked. “Deep enough.”

There were motorbikes, [motorcycles](http://fuckingloveyouall.tumblr.com/post/118527273710), and ATVs of every stripe lined up from one end of the bunker to the other. A path of  embedded LED lights led to the vehicle exit, down the back of the property towards the wild planes outside the iron gates. 

“I knew about the car collection. Didn’t know about the motorbikes. Dunno what I was thinking.” He walked down the row. Most were black and chrome, but some came in colors: yellow, red, and blue. Harleys, Indians, Kawasakis. Harry collected these for their make and beauty, as anything else. “Can I ride one?’

“You can have one. Take your pick. I have too many and no time to ride them all.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

Harry glanced and picked seemingly at random, throwing his leg over a [1950 Indian Chief Roadmaster](http://m.cycletrader.com/dealers/Spanos-Cycles-3003586/listing/1950-Indian-CHIEF-ROADMASTER-116118384) like it was just another priceless treasure.  “Hop on, I’ll take you out for a test drive.” He pulled on a helmet hanging off the handlebars and offered Eggsy the extra.

Eggsy took the offered helmet and climbed on behind him, saying, “Sounds like a chat up line.”

“It most certainly is. Aren’t you excited to take  _me_ for a ride?”

Eggsy nuzzled Harry’s nape over his jacket collar.  “You don’t seem like one for mussing up your clothes on the road.” In the Serengeti, yes, but not in the urban muck.

“How you’ve been misinformed.  I’ve never been afraid to get a little dirty in pursuit of a good time.”  He reached one of those long arms back to give Eggsy’s ass an appreciative squeeze, and then, with a roar, they were off out.

The internal and external bunker doors yielded one by one with at Harry’s voice command, the ultraviolet subterranean lighting winking out in the rear as the moonlight washed over them like high tide. The clamor of Malibu nightlife was all around them, but when they zipped past the crush of cars coming and going, it was like there was nothing but the two of them and the [road ahead](http://blog.lukemouradian.com/post/120799677082/get-fucking-lost-6415#_=_). 

“For the record, I was an devout Motocross des Nations racer when I was younger and my joints could take it. In my last tourney, I nearly gave myself an abdominal hernia avoiding a downed rider on a jump. As it was, I got a concussion, a sprained wrist, and wrecked my meniscus but good, and that was that.” He tutted to himself.  “The worst part, aside from not being able to ride, must have been how long it took to get the mud out of my hair. It was even more ridiculous back then, if you can imagine.”

Eggsy grinned behind his face shield.  “Wish I coulda seen ya.”

“Merlin still has an embarrassment of pictures from that decade. You should ask him about it.”

“Think I will.”  Eggsy leaned up a bit so Harry could hear him over the bracing wind.  “It’s your birthday, y’know, I think I’m supposed to be the one romancing you.”

“Anytime I’m with you is the romantic highlight of my year.” He leaned low over the handlebars of his bike.  “Hold on tight, there’s a rough curve ahead.”

Eggsy held on.

They made easy headway by taking lowkey paths and back roads till they were returning to the main streets of wherever Harry was taking him.  Eggsy didn’t care much anymore. He’d have gone anywhere with Harry anyway.

He let Harry’s heartbeat and the bike’s roar lull him to a half-sleep.  Just to think that he could fall asleep like this every night for years.  That would be enough.

Harry patted his knee to rouse him when they came to a stop.

It was a tall building on a large plot of land. Acres of grass and trees far as the eye could see, flowers all over. The parking lot seemed almost incidental.  The telescope protruding from the domed roof less so.

“Where are we?”

“You’ll see.”  Harry produced a set of keys to take them through what was clearly the back door of the building.

“Are we even s’pposed to be in here?” They were in some kind of service area.

“That’s never stopped us.”

The adventures they’d had sneaking here and there. Harry’s head for trouble was a good part of what had made Eggsy fall in love with him. If he wasn’t teaching Eggsy to stay out of trouble, he was showing him the quickest and cheapest ways out of it. He always said the misadventures of his youth had to be good for something.

At last, they stepped out into the main thoroughfare of the building, an airy lobby topped by an all-encompassing skylight. It showed the clear stars at night without any of the light pollution of the city.

“There’s a sight you don’t see much.”

“I’ve got an even better one for you.”

Harry led him from the deserted moonlit atrium past a velvet rope line and ticket stand, through a set of double doors till they entered something similar to a movie theater.

“Sit. I’ll set it up.”

Harry helped himself to a set of controls behind a podium after directing Eggsy to a comfy chair in the front row. Just when Eggsy was going to ask what he was up to, he heard electricity whir in the air and the ceiling came alive [with a million stars](http://heartsnmagic.tumblr.com/post/132295556619) inset in a velvet sky. 

“Jesus.”

“Some would say so.” 

Harry took the chair at his side as a melodious voice that sounded a lot like Merlin took them through the constellations as they slowly scrolled across the domed ceiling. Then, he took them through the planets of the Milky Way and all of their moons. Eggsy clutched Harry’s hand when they got to Mars and didn’t let go again till the lights came on.

Christ, they were so small weren’t they? In the grand scheme of things, what did their lives in even matter when there was so much more out there? It was that overwhelming feeling that made him press his face against Harry’s shoulder until the world stopped feeling like it was spinning too fast.

“All right, darling?”

“Yah, just give us a bit.”

His hands roved up and down Eggsy’s back as he got his breath back. He looked up at Harry, elated.

“That was amazing. The best ever.”

“Better than the Pete Harrison?”

“Fuck yeah. Fuck. Yeah.” He crowded Harry back into the nearest flat surface, a convenient ticket window, to kiss his thanks out where words failed him. That’s when he saw the gold foil words emblazoned on the wall. 

_Hart Malibu Space Museum & Planetarium._

He was so shocked he forgot to get on with the business of kissing Harry. Though Harry took issue with his distraction, he only sighed his disappointment.

“You funded a planetarium, because...why?”

“Once you’ve been to space, it’s an experience you want to share with as many people as you can, particularly those you love. Since it’s unlikely that space travel will become widespread in my lifetime, it’s the least I can do.”

“Hang on, you’ve been to space? Shouldn’t you have mentioned that? Maybe sometime before certified pilot but after hello? It’s been two years, Harry!”

“It’s never came up.”

Harry led him out of the darkened domed theater to another dimly lit corridor filled with illuminated shadowboxes and what looked like museum exhibits.

Eggsy paused outside of one man-tall glass display case.  

“Is that a spacesuit? Because that looks like a spacesuit.”

“I have a school chum who ended up in the Space Program. She had a problem she thought I could solve on the ISS, the International Space Station, so I slid through an abbreviated training course to assist. As there wasn’t any press on it, they allowed me to keep the suit and donate it to the institution of my choice.”

Eggsy was still stuck on the first bit. “You went to space.”

“I went to orbit, if that’s what you mean. Hardly Mars.”

“Still counts. I’m going to marry an astronaut. Mum’s gonna love tellin’ her friends about this.” Eggsy realized what he’d said three seconds after he said it, but Harry didn’t comment, so neither did he. He did, however, let Harry kiss him under the actual stars behind the planetarium till his lips stung and his jaw ached. On the ride back to Harry’s dream house, he was wide awake the whole way, the ring he’d bought six months ago burning a hole in his jacket.

He was going to marry an astronaut.

* * *

 

Not an hour after they’d parked the Indian in its proper place, Eggsy was messing about under the hood of the Harry’s 1965 Shelby Cobra when he caught his skin on a jagged piece of metal. “Fuckin’ hell!”

Harry hurried back from where’d been checking the oil on his Ferrari F12berlinetta, rubbing a grotty dishrag over his hands.  “Something the matter?”

“Think I went sliced and my hand open.”

Harry tossed the rag aside. “Let me take a look at that.”

Eggsy shook it out. “Nah, I can handle it. I’m used to a little pain.”

“You may be, but I’m not accustomed to seeing you in pain and I won’t be in the future, either. That’s the deal.  No more handling hurt on your own when you’ve got someone to share it with. Let’s have a look.”

Eggsy grunted but relented to let Harry cradle his arm against his chest for inspection.

“Trust me,” he assured absently, “I’m a doctor.” Eggsy didn’t doubt him.

“Ha. Professional golf must be the only thing you don’t do.”

Harry continued to inspect Eggsy’s steadily weeping cut, his mouth pressed into a line of intense concentration. Eggsy knew his wound didn’t warrant that.

“You’ve done golfing, haven’t you? Where’re the trophies?” He looked around. Ther was probably room in the bunker.

“Not actually very good at it. I lack the patience.”

“You watch birds and whales, but you’re not good at golf?”

Harry shrugged, self-conscious.  “I’ve done many things and been good at many, but no one can be good at everything, Eggsy.  If that’s who you want, you may be wasting your time with me.”

“Nah. I’m not the one wasting anything.” He rubbed his thumb along Harry’s. “Sorry to burst your bubble, love, but I’m gonna marry you if it’s the last thing I do.”

Harry looked up at him and then back to his hand where he’d applied his handkerchief as a pressure bandage.  “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Sure. When do you wanna get married?”

Harry scoffed instead of telling him he was mad.  “Spring would be nice.”

“It’s spring now.”

Harry grinned like he was sharing a secret. “Did I mention that I moonlighted as wedding planner in the early 2000s?”

“You mighta left that one out.”

“Oops,” he murmured between kisses to Eggsy’s injured hand. “It must have slipped my mind.”

* * *

 

It is a truth universally acknowledged that no matter which of Harry’s houses he was in, Eggsy would find a walk-in closet the size of a modest bank vault. Harry liked to coordinate, he liked to look the part of the Renaissance man as much as he appreciated being one. Suits, separates, jeans, peacoats, trenches. From his skin to his silk neck ties, Harry was always the best dressed man in the room. The [shopping malls that passed for closets](http://bagginshield.tumblr.com/post/115348061166/my-aesthetics-the-smile-eggsy-gives-harry-in-this) at his places were probably some of the reasons why. 

His bank vault the size of a small bank was likely another. Nobody’d ever say Eggsy reached low for love even if he wasn’t marrying Harry for his net worth. 

Eggsy rifled through the drawers stacked chest high for something to wear now that his outfit from earlier was thoroughly ruined. He didn’t know if he dared send it out to the cleaners. Between the mud, the motor oil, the bubblegum, and the bodily fluids, he thought it might be best if he just burned ‘em outright lest his mum see them.

At any rate, Harry had already made his excuses for the night. The partygoers were welcome to burn the midnight oil, but he had other plans. He had Eggsy. He’d  _had_ Eggsy quite a lot in the hours since, too. Eggsy was really going to enjoy celebrating his engagement if this kept up.

Eggsy tossed his old clothes at the end of the bed to be dealt with in the morning.  He pulled back the covers to find it filled with his very naked fiance (which was weird to think, made his heart beat funny in his chest as much as it felt right), taking up every inch of mattress his limbs could reach. That is to say, all of it.

“You gotta be takin’ the piss.”

Harry grumbled and said nothing, only moving enough to hug Eggsy’s pillow to his chest.  Eggsy had to put all his gymnastics skills to use in climbing over Harry to reach his side and fold Harry back over to his half of the mattress. When he wasn’t fighting off the most affectionate, overachieving octopus in history, he was waging war with Harry’s sex hair that got in his mouth as soon as he tried laying down.

Did Eggsy mention that Harry had a head of curly hair so thick it would have made Vin Diesel or even Merlin green with envy whenever Harry was too lazy to style it? Which was almost never, because Harry had  _ideas_  about [how a gentleman](http://harryhartkingsman.tumblr.com/post/119089238550/come-with-me) presented himself in public.

(Eggsy had half a South Ken wardrobe of [rarely-worn bespoke](http://o-egerton-fantasies.tumblr.com/post/124759437319/packaged-deal-summary-jb-gets-jealous-when-you) to prove it.) 

But Harry wasn’t in public at the moment. Harry was in bed next to him, after much wrestling. He wasn’t fixing space shuttles or feeding starving children or even winning Best Actor for the only feature film he’d ever acted in. He was tangled up with Eggsy asleep and Eggsy couldn’t say he’d ever looked happier. The ring on his finger didn’t hurt either.

* * *

 

Harry had been a Regency actor.

  


[Originally posted by falling-slowly96](http://tmblr.co/ZYBQPl1pPbHw5)

 

A rather awkward dancer.

  


[Originally posted by zoriaworld](http://tmblr.co/ZzK46q1iuFlgf)

 

A human rights attorney.

  


[Originally posted by carryitwithusorwefinditnot](http://tmblr.co/Z_2L-walwgcu)

 

An English professor.

  


[Originally posted by lonelyextrovert](http://tmblr.co/Zxv6Jp1eRnkJQ)

 

A stunt car driver.

  


[Originally posted by billionaires-road](http://tmblr.co/Z6vQ-q1T9CnEm)

 

  


[Originally posted by morninggreentealatte](http://tmblr.co/ZyFOWq1f4xrqK)

 

  


[Originally posted by official-hartwin](http://tmblr.co/ZWJZGk1nDO9sU)

 

(Would you believe that’s how they met?)

A lover.

  


[Originally posted by glamorous--love](http://tmblr.co/Za5UAt1IaflbC)

 

...and a fighter.

  


[Originally posted by sokillintime](http://tmblr.co/ZG7FDn1lMqgZA)

 

Harry Hart had done everything and been everything, yet somehow he’d still found his way to regular old Eggsy in regular old London proper. In all honesty, they were a bit of a mess together, improbable as they were, impossible as always, but they were a happy mess. And Eggsy intended to see to it that they stayed happily messy for all their days.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any characters recognizable as being from Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015). They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.
> 
> I'm [sententiousandbellicose](http://sententiousandbellicose.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. Come squee with me!


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